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Verge of Fifth & Seventh

I could smell her vagina
We were stationary
On the verge of Fifth & Seventh
We had both been delving
Her in fellatio
Me in wanting anticipation

It was unusual
The way it all chopped down
My dashboard said nothing
I flicked the radio on
I had it tuned to classical
Kind of gay I know

She mugged me up
Trusted my semi-complacence
My cock down her throat
She knew I wouldn't come just yet
We both had work to do
Lucky no-one was filming

This girl was amazing
She could suck a golf-ball through a hose
No complaints from my satisfaction
Hell! Most would have come minutes ago
I dragged it out, she did too
As hinted, my finger had crept in

She seemed to want me
Wet as silence
I felt like the Dutch boy
With his dyke
With their wall
And all that water

She was French Revolution
I was Robespierre
Mad as a dungeon
Whoring all the while
We both smiled expectantly
And took it in our stride